man in motion
by SoulVamp
Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9
"Have you even slept?"
Fred shook her head, but she was smiling.
Wes was slightly unnerved. She hadn't been out with another man, had she? Not that it was any of his business, but still. Didn't they have something? Very new and possibly fruitless, yet it was something nonetheless.
He dismissed his jealousy. There were bigger things to deal with, and this was no time to be petty and immature. Besides, Lilah rather complicated things, to say the least, and Wes could swear Fred had been positively flirting with her new lab assistant, that Knox fellow. Was that who she'd been out with?
"You look a little worn around the edges yourself, Wesley," Fred noticed.
"Yes, well, Angel woke me to get on this." Interrupted a rather interesting dream, too, he added to himself.
Fred plucked a book from the conference table. "I thought that creepy Council guy gave you access to computer databases for research. What's with the low tech?"
"The shanshu prophecy pre-dates most texts," Wes explained. "I'm afraid we'll have to resort to the written word."
"Are we looking for something specific?" she asked, scanning an index she discovered all too quickly was written in Vlatovgnosch. "And hand me the dictionary."
***
The map on the kitchen table glowed. Willow pointed to the brightest spot, illuminating a side street not far from the lake. "I think there's a warehouse there."
"That's where they're holed up, then. The cult," Kennedy said. "What do we do, just bust in there?"
"With swords a'blazin'," Faith said. "I don't think these guys are the types you make an appointment with."
Willow looked uneasy. "I don't know. We know a lot about the demon, but we don't know what else the cult is into. They might be tapping into some dark stuff that could be pretty dangerous."
"You got a better idea, then share," Faith said. "Otherwise, I think that's our best bet."
"What about a stakeout?" Kennedy suggested. "We check it out first, see how many of them there are, and if it looks like we're not outnumbered..."
"Then we take 'em?"
"No," Willow put in. "No, maybe just get one of them alone for... for interrogation."
Faith laughed. "Yeah, break out the bright light." She sprang up and pointed menacingly at an empty chair. "Where were you on the night of June thirteenth?!"
Kennedy smirked. "Something like that."
Faith pointed at her. "You, good cop. Me, bad cop." She paused, considering. "No, other way around." She smiled seductively. "Sometimes I got a way with the persuasion that people aren't expecting."
"These are cult members, Faith," Willow said. "Not horny frat boys."
"Hey, a man's a man. They all got warm blood runnin' through 'em, don't they?"
***
She crossed the basement to him. "Everybody's asleep."
"Seems that way," he replied.
She reached out a trembling hand and caressed his cheek, the way she had the night before. "You'll do great," she said softly. "We all will."
He bowed his head, smiling. "Hope so, luv. Want to do you proud."
The First had called him her lover... her dead lover, but her lover nonetheless, and yet they hadn't been together in over a year.
What if this was their last night on earth? What if --
She wrapped her arms around him, embracing him, hugging him... something she'd never done before, not exactly.
He inhaled unneeded breath sharply, but his arms crept around her once the initial shock had worn off.
Then his lips were pressed to her forehead, and she looked up into the deep blue depths of his eyes.
"Spike?" she whispered tentatively. "Would you... could... you don't have to, but I'd like to make love to you."
His whole body seemed to sag slightly, and his brows shot up in concern. "Buffy, you don't need to do that."
"I want to," she said. "If you don't want to, I understand, but --"
He kissed her, his lips sweet and cool on hers. A small kiss, the sort shared between people who'd never kissed before.
"Not here, not in this darkness..." he murmured. He took her hand and led her upstairs.
"But all the rooms... there's people in all of them. I don't see where --"
"Shh. Wait here," he instructed when they reached the kitchen. He disappeared into the living room silently. When he returned, he had a blanket under his arm.
He led her out to the backyard, which was lit by the moon, the stars, and the flickering glow of a kerosene lantern resting on the porch. He scanned about 'til his eyes rested on a spot beneath the wide branches of a tall oak tree, and he moved toward it.
She followed, and he spread the blanket out, folding it carefully, kneeling down and patting it to see that it was soft, comfortable...
He stretched out and drew her down on top of him.
Buffy sighed, her eyes closed, almost feeling him moving beneath her, when Dawn's voice startled her.
"They're going. Tonight," she said.
"What?"
Dawn rolled her eyes. "Earth to Buffy! Faith and Kennedy are going to the cult's headquarters."
"Oh, right, right. Thanks."
"Do you want me to follow them?"
Buffy shook her head. "No, I think they'll be okay. They weren't gonna do anything stupid, were they?"
"I think they're just gathering info."
"Then they don't need help yet, if they will at all."
Dawn frowned. "Buffy, why don't they want you in on this?"
Because of Faith, Buffy thought. Faith knows my head isn't really here. She thinks she's being helpful. She looked up at Dawn. "I don't know," she said. "Maybe they just want to see if they can tackle something on their own."
Please buy that answer, Dawnie, Buffy thought. I really don't want to tell you the truth.
"Okay, well, if I'm not following them, and if you're not following them, you better hurry. You're gonna be late."
Buffy glanced at the clock. "Yikes! I almost forgot!"
"Good luck!" Dawn called after her as she dashed from the room.
***
"Nothing new whatsoever," Wes reported. "Fred and I --"
"Fred?!" Angel asked incredulously. "Fred's there?!"
Wes frowned, pulling the receiver away from his ear slightly and looking at it as though it had bitten him. "Well, yes, of course Fred's here. I needed help. Why shouldn't she be here?"
"I just... I haven't told everybody about Spike yet, it's... a kind of need to know thing," Angel explained. "You haven't..."
Wes turned slightly away from Fred, who was still hunched over a pile of texts. He lowered his voice. "I haven't explained the reason for the research, no."
"Keep it that way. At least for now."
"But why?"
Angel started to answer, then paused. "Don't worry about it. If there's no news, then maybe I'll take care of this situation directly." He hung up.
Wes folded his phone shut and tucked it into his pocket. Angel didn't want to tell Fred because he knew what he was doing was wrong, Wes thought. This wasn't being a champion of the people, this was a vendetta. Murder.
He looked across the table. "I think we're done here," he told her.
"You sure?" Fred asked.
"Yes," Wes replied. "We've got all the information we need."
Now might be a good time to ask Lilah just how binding their contracts were, Wes realized. This place was changing them, and he particularly didn't like what it was doing to Angel.
***
"Very punctual, that's good."
Buffy smiled, hoping it was smiley enough but not too smiley, not like insane smiley, just... eager. Friendly. But not too friendly. She didn't want this guy to think she was hitting on him. Oh, no, the skirt was a bad idea. It was too short, wasn't it?
"Just the two former employers?"
"What? Oh, um, yeah. Yes." Please let Robin give a decent recommendation. Please.
The man folded his hands on his desk and looked at Buffy with a kind of patronizing disappointment.
Here it comes, she thought. I didn't get it.
"It's second shift, you know," he said.
"I'm kind of a night owl."
"You don't exactly have the experience we generally look for."
"I learn fast, really!"
The man shook his head. "I'm sorry, Miss Summers, I just don't think this is the right position for you." He handed back her resume, and Buffy stood up.
As she left the building, she wondered if she'd managed to at least be gracious and shake the guy's hand. It was kind of a blur. When her bus arrived, she got on, slumped into a seat in the back, and hoped none of the other passengers could tell she was crying.
Darien's body was tense, almost as if she were sniffing the air. "Somebody's coming," she whispered. "I can feel them."
"Shit," Jay muttered, peering into the cloudy orb resting on his palm. "Slayers. Two of 'em."
Darien snuck a quick glance at the cage in the corner of the dark room. "Should we cloak him?" she asked.
Jay shook his head. "There isn't time. Wait --" He brought his hand closer to his face. "They're not attacking, they're just snooping."
Darien rolled her eyes. "Hence my question still remains: should we cloak him?!"
"No!" Jay said sternly. "Besides, it kinda pissed him off last time, didn't it?"
Darien looked at the cage again. The creature inside was pacing back and forth, but didn't seem angry, merely bored. She stood up and warily approached the bars.
"You hungry?" she asked.
The creature gave a short growl.
"We can't let you out tonight," she said. "There's people --"
"Slayers," said the creature with a rumbling, eerie laugh. "Delicious."
Darien took a step backward. "W - we can't do that," she said. "You have your orders. You only feed on --"
The creature's face was suddenly terrifyingly close to hers, fists wrapped around the bars of the cage. "Restores," he said. "Their blood restores."
"I'll see," Darien said nervously. She returned to Jay, sitting down next to him again. "Did you hear?"
"That shouldn't be a problem."
"Jay! That's... that's wrong! We're not trying to --"
"Darien, please." Jay's eyes were cold, emotionless. "When we summoned him, did you really think we were never going to do anything evil?"
***
Willow and Xander passed the binoculars back and forth in his car, acting as getaway and lookout for Kennedy and Faith, who were circling the warehouse.
"So why isn't Buffy here?" Xander asked. "This is bizarro world to me. Patrol, recon, all without the leading lady. Not to mention still not getting over the fact that I, Xander Harris, am now a resident of Cleveland." He shuddered.
"Don't forget your glass eye," Willow said with a small frown. "And your unemployment."
"Are you trying to depress me?" he asked. Why don't you just bring Anya up and be done with it, he thought. I don't really need my heart. That's fine. I'm actually getting used to the gaping hole in my chest where love and happy used to live.
"No, I'm just..." Willow sighed, handing him back the binoculars. "I guess I'm kinda getting a little black cloud feeling lately myself," she explained.
"Not a black and veiny sort of a cloud, though, right?"
"Nope, just the blahs and sadness," she assured him.
"Whew. That's much better."
Willow looked at him pointedly.
"Well, no, I didn't mean it was better, just... okay, people need to not let me talk."
Willow patted him on the shoulder. "I think everybody's a little more down than they bargained for. The excitement wore off, and now it's like... woah! Real life is all different now! We didn't just save the world, we totally changed our own daily stuff." She looked out the window, idly trying to spot Kennedy and Faith. "I miss school. And the Bronze. And, Xander... I do miss --"
He held up his hand. "You don't have to say it. In fact, really, don't. I know you do, it's cool."
She smiled sadly. "You know, I'm starting to think that... Nah, never mind."
"Penalty flag on that, Will. You remember the official conversational rules instigated in the Scooby Caucus of 1999? Rule number three: thou shalt not start a sentence and then say the dreaded 'never mind.'"
"Okay, but you're not gonna like it," she warned him.
"Me strong like bull," Xander said with a grunt. "Mere words not wound me." He thumped his chest, then let out a weak "ow."
Willow started to speak, when suddenly hands were pounding on the windshield and the driver's side window of the car, banging with desperate, angry insistence.
***
Imagine
waking up from a nightmare so real it was tangible and seemed to
go on forever...
There wasn't fire and brimstone, but there also wasn't the feeling of completeness and love and peace that had been described to him as what heaven was like...
Mostly, it was terrifying in its absence of stimuli, the sense that one's very essence itself was destroyed; that the soul was, in fact, a light switch that got shut off at the time of death, leaving only empty blackness.
But then again, it wasn't precisely like that either. Time was the only thing still palpable, and he existed in this nether-realm for millennia. Endless, numbing eons that stretched through many lifetimes over...
That's how long he had been dead.
And yet when the moment came that he peeled his eyelids open and sat up, he was still in the crater that had once been the entire town. Later, when he'd had time to figure it all out, he ascertained that he'd awoken what was likely no more than an hour after he'd been reduced to a pile of ashes.
That was the first thing he saw: crumbled dust that held no meaning for him at first, until he looked carefully, ran a hand through it, felt the familiar texture of what was left in the wake of a slain vampire.
Not slain, though. Casualty of war.
He stood up, stumbling almost immediately. Legs didn't work right, and he was cold, naked, weary.
It took a long time to start to crawl through the debris, rock, and then...
Blazing, blinding sunlight struck him full on.
He looked into the sky, the big yellow star shining on him, warming him, not burning...
He pressed his hand to his chest, and felt his heart beating rapidly; his lungs expanded and filled with air of their own volition.
He fell to the ground, and he wept.
Spike wasn't giving up this life easily. This was a gift, this new humanity, and when he awoke from dreaming those first few precious moments of life, he made a decision: find Buffy. Find her now, by whatever means necessary. Ask her for help in figuring out who'd hired Riley to off him. Everything else could wait. He didn't have the luxury of giving her space and time.
He swung his legs over the side of the bed, and didn't once glance at Fred's number, just picked up the phone and dialed Buffy's cell.
Out of service area.
Of course they hadn't stayed camped out by the remains of Sunnydale. He knew that, just as he knew nobody was at fault for not sticking around and waiting for him to miraculously come back to life.
He was dead. Buffy, Willow, Faith, the lot of them... they'd split. It was logical.
Suddenly a piercing dread came over him. What if --
No, no, everybody else made it, he was certain of that.
It finally hit him who he needed to reach. The prospect was sickening, but there really was no other way.
He tore a page from the phone book and headed out.
***
Xander jumped back from the window.
Oh, thank God, he thought with relief.
He unlocked the back door, and Faith and Kennedy tumbled into the car.
"You guys gave us a heart attack!" Willow said. "Did you find out anything?"
"Yes and no," Kennedy replied. "There's people in there, but we couldn't see them very well."
"But it wasn't some big group," Faith added. "Unless they're all off at dollar draft night or somethin', place seems like it's only got a couple of folks in it."
"We saw maybe two, three shadows..."
"It was dark."
"Hmm," Willow mused. "I should call Giles." She glanced at her watch. "It'll be the middle of the night there now, I'll have to wait 'til morning."
Xander turned around to face the backseat. "Is it really dollar draft night?" he asked Faith.
***
Buffy flung her bag down on the sofa and meandered into the kitchen. The fridge was nearly empty, but there were still a few beers left over from Giles's going away party. Cheap stuff, but she wasn't feeling particularly picky.
She took one out, tossing the cap into the sink, and walked out to the back porch.
"Everyone... " She paused, trying to choose her words carefully. "They all care. They all care so much, it... makes it all harder."
Spike mounted the steps up to the porch. "I'm not sure I followed you around that bend, luv."
"I don't know," she sighed. "I just, I feel like I'm spending all of my time trying to be okay, so they don't worry. It's exhausting. And then, I..." She trailed off, clenching her hand into a fist.
"And that makes 'em worry even more."
Buffy looked at him. He strode up the last step and stood beside her.
He wasn't there. The person she could talk to when she felt alone and maligned -- like now... and he wasn't there to talk to. The irony. Buffy wanted to confide in Spike about mourning him. If it weren't so tragic, she thought, this might actually be funny, in a "wow, that sucks, doesn't it?" sort of way.
She took a sip of the beer and sat down on the top step. The yard here was smaller than at her old house, the neighborhood a little more noisy, but it was nice enough. It would do for now.
"Buffy?" The voice was low, barely audible.
Her eyes widened, and she stood up without turning around. Her heartbeat quickened.
A footstep behind her. "Are you all right?"
She closed her eyes. "Yes. I'm fine."
She knew it was Xander, she knew, and yet... she didn't want to turn around. She wanted to pretend...
"How'd the interview go?"
"I didn't get it."
"Aw, I'm sorry, Buff." He put a hand on her shoulder.
No, not "Buff," she thought. Don't call me that. Call me --
"Sorry to hear that, Slayer." The voice deeper, thickly accented... smelling his cologne, cigarettes, leather...
"It's okay," she said. "I'll go back out there tomorrow."
"You're not a schoolgirl. You're not a shopgirl..."
"Damn straight. You'll get something." He lifted his hand. "I'm gonna turn in. See you in the morning."
The door shut.
No.
"You're a creature of the darkness. Like me." His hand slid down from her shoulder to her arm, and she felt him press up against her back, nuzzling her neck.
"I miss you," she said aloud. "Why aren't you here? Now, when I need you?"
"Gotta move, lamb..."
"No!" She threw her beer across the lawn, hitting the side of the garage. It shattered, spilling its contents.
The door slammed open. "What was that?! Are you okay?!"
And now she was glad it was Xander, the epitome of the Nice Safe Guy... glad for his strong arms enveloping her in a hug, and she melted sobbing against his chest. She choked out incomprehensible words of sorrow and anger and frustration, not caring how revelatory she got, just needing to finally admit it, admit it all...
"I loved him, he's gone, why is he gone? I --"
Xander stroked her hair, held onto her tightly. "It's okay, it's gonna be okay," he said, but his own voice caught in his throat as he thought of Anya, and...
Wait a minute.
"Did you say... ?"
Buffy turned her face up to his. "I'm sorry, Xander, I know it's wrong, but... he really did change, and..."
Xander nodded. "He did a good thing," he said quietly.
"Please don't hate me for feeling like this."
"I don't hate you, Buffy," he replied. "I could never hate you, no matter what. I'm sorry. I'm sorry because Spike finally did something to make himself worthy of you loving him, and he's... well, he's not around for me to give him the speech." Xander gave her a brief smile.
"The... speech?"
He cleared his throat and released her, walked to the side of the porch and rested against the railing. "Yeah, the speech. I had it all planned, too. See, you thought I didn't notice you guys getting closer, that I was still all not-trusty and everything, and I... well, yeah, it still bugged me, but... soul. You know? And not, um..." He paused. "What I mean is, he went out and got it. Voluntarily. And that means something."
Buffy tried to smile, wiping the tears from her face.
"So, yeah. I was gonna give him the speech... probably after the big let's-kick-evil's-ass showdown... I was gonna tell him... that it was cool."
She looked surprised. "Really?"
"Mostly cool," Xander amended. "But that if he ever so much as thought about hurting you again, I'd st -- I'd..." Suddenly, despite himself, Xander started to break down, and now it was Buffy rushing to provide comfort.
"I hated that guy, Buff," he said. "But goddamnit if I don't miss him a little bit, too."
She almost collided with him on the sidewalk outside the hotel. "Well, well, well," he said. "Fancy meetin' you here."
Fred tried to contain her pleasure at seeing him again. "Gosh, it feels like I just saw you!" she said merrily.
Spike chuckled. "You did, pet. Must be fate, running into you so soon." He reached for the door handle, pulling it open, then stopped just short of walking through the entrance.
She was now looking at him with narrowed eyes.
"You already have a place to stay," she observed.
"That I do," he replied warily. "Got some business here."
"I live here."
His mouth opened slightly. "Well, that's somethin' I didn't count on," he said after a moment. "You, er... you don't..."
Fred swallowed nervously. "I work for Angel."
Spike shut his eyes and looked pained. "Oh, balls," he muttered.
"I take it you know him."
Spike gave a short, bitter laugh. "Yeah. We go way back."
***
Willow hung up the phone and sighed. Great, it was back to the drawing board. Didn't the coven know that they were relied on for their insight pretty much exclusively, ever since the Council went poof? Well, not so much poof as boom, technically. She looked over her notes and started crossing out whole sections.
"That doesn't look good," Kennedy said.
Willow turned around. "I just got off with Giles."
"Should I be jealous?"
Willow blushed. "The phone, got off the phone!"
Kennedy grinned. "I just love it when you get all nervous."
"Not nervous, more like... ew. Ew, bad thoughts, bad thoughts."
Kennedy laughed. She hopped up onto the kitchen counter, swinging her feet. "Okay, well, what'd he have to say that's making you mark out all your research?"
"The cult was wiped out," she said. "They're all dead."
"So no more proby demon guy?"
"Well, maybe. Maybe not," Willow replied. "I'm more worried about how the cult got killed."
"How?"
"Massive throat trauma."
The two girls didn't hear Xander come into the kitchen.
"Vampires," Kennedy said, sounding slightly relieved. "Oh, well, heck, easiest things in the world to kill."
"Don't let Buffy hear you say that," Xander said quietly.
***
Fred showed him into the lobby. "I think he's probably at his office," she said. "I can try to call him."
Spike pulled the ad he'd torn from the yellow pages out of his pocket. "Mean he doesn't work out of here anymore, then?"
"Uh, no. Since kinda recently, we all... well, I guess there's sort of no more Angel Investigations."
"He's stopped the do-gooder gig?"
Fred shook her head. "No, no, he... um, it's complicated."
Spike sat down. "Things always are."
"Is this anything I could help you with?" Fred asked.
"Don't know," Spike answered. "You know where a man could find a Slayer?"
"Oh! Faith?"
Spike was taken aback. "No, not that one, though I s'pose where she's to be found, so's the other one. Or ones, rather. There's actually quite a few of 'em now."
"The other... oh."
"Buffy."
"I - I don't know her," Fred said, taking a seat next to Spike on the sofa. "Angel went to see her about a month ago, though."
"Need to find 'er," Spike said quietly.
Fred peered at him. "Are you..."
And then it dawned on her.
"How did it go?"
"I don't want to talk about it," Angel said angrily.
"But did you help them?" Fred pressed.
"Yeah, I helped them all right. Helped Buffy and her..." He shuddered.
"Her what?" Gunn asked.
"Well, you all might as well know, I'm not the only vampire with a soul anymore," he said.
Wes's eyes narrowed. "Who?"
"Doesn't matter. But I guess Buffy's dating him now."
"Hey, hey, now," Lorne said, putting an arm around Angel's shoulders amiably. "Chin up, sweet cheeks. It's probably just a fling. When you finally fulfill your destiny and get off that blood diet, she'll come running right back to your happy human self!"
Wes was studying Angel's face very carefully.
"Y - you're the guy!"
Spike raised an eyebrow. "The guy?"
She frowned. "No, wait, you can't be. You're walking around in the daylight and everything. You're not a vampire."
"No, not so much," he replied. "Not anymore."
Fred's jaw dropped. "Oh, my God," she murmured. "The... the research this morning..." She looked up at him. "Spike... I think Angel might not be exactly pleased to see you."
***
It was the first and the last time they were together like that, with true tenderness and affection.
She smiled down at him. "Here?"
"Nice night for it, i'n'it?"
She leaned down and kissed him, slowly easing his lips apart, and when his tongue slid across hers, she felt a heady completeness.
Rolling to her side, she brought his body closer against hers, hand moving between them to work the buttons of her blouse.
He broke the kiss and grinned at her. "That's my job," he said.
With a slowness that was patently frustrating, he undid each button, easing the fabric from her skin, and proceeded to open the clasp on the front of her bra.
Spike regarded her breasts with a smile of boyish awe. "Missed those," he murmured. He rolled her onto her back, his head lowering, tongue flicking across nipple.
She buried her fingers in his hair and sighed in contentment.
They moved together, fit together, easily and gently, taking their time, shedding clothes, hands roaming, soft words and sounds of appreciation passing between them. When Buffy found herself atop him, she didn't tease, she didn't taunt... this wasn't fucking him senseless 'til they were both numb, this was something different.
And she didn't stay vertical after she'd guided him inside her. She allowed herself to fall back down against his chest, her eyes open as she kissed him, not wanting to miss a moment of his expressions, his pleasure.
His arms wrapped around her hips.
It seemed they were almost still, just the slightest hint of motion, languid... speeding up only as the passion mounted, and even then it was careful, tender...
"God, I love you," he moaned as she collapsed beside him.
Her voice caught in her throat, and he smoothed her hair away from her forehead.
"I --"
"Shh, 's all right, luv," he whispered. "I know what this was, just a little somethin' for the end of the world. Know you don't love me, but I appreciate this nonetheless."
Yet there was something in the way he spoke, the way he looked at her...
She wanted to say it. And at the same time, she knew that until she said it when they were both safe and alive and had triumphantly won the next day's battle, he wasn't going to let her say it. Not 'til then.
So she stayed quiet, and instead took his hand and placed it above her left breast, willing him to understand just how full her heart was with him.
His eyes stayed locked on hers. "Thanks," he said, so quietly she wasn't sure he'd really said it.
Because of that, it was okay, she decided. Because... he did know, didn't he? He had to. Buffy dressed quickly, running a brush through her hair, and walking to the kitchen. No tears today, she told herself. There's things to be done, and it doesn't help to dwell on the what-ifs.
"Don't let Buffy hear you say that."
It was Xander's voice. What was this about?
"Don't let me hear you say what?"
"Uh... that we're out of milk," Willow said lamely.
Buffy looked from Xander to Willow to Kennedy. "Okayyy," she said. "Yeah. That's tragedy right there. Thank you for trying to spare me from the horrors of dry cereal."
No one was meeting her gaze.
"What is it really?" she asked tensely. "You guys look severely guilty here, and I'm not getting mega warm fuzzies."
"Willow, we should tell her," Kennedy said. "I never wanted to keep her out of this, that was all Faith."
"Oh, you mean the big demon guy being worshipped by a cult?" Buffy asked innocently. "Yeah, how's that going?"
"Buffy!" Willow gasped. "How did you know?"
"Let's just say a little bird told me."
From behind her in the doorway, Dawn approached.
"Dawnie," Willow said with an edge in her voice.
"Um... tweet tweet?" Dawn said nervously.
When Spike finished speaking, Fred appeared both awestruck and more than a little disappointed.
"Y - you must've loved her very much," she said.
Spike looked down. "Still do."
"So I... the... things you said to me..."
"Don't think for a minute I didn't mean 'em," he assured her immediately. "I'm all manner of confused right now, but I know an appealing woman when I see one." He smiled. "Almost got me off track, you did. Should make you feel right proud of yourself."
She returned his smile shyly, then stood up, pacing. "Something's not right here," she mused. "Angel's been acting really weird ever since he came back from Sunnydale, and then with the stuff he had Wesley looking up..."
"Think he sussed it out?" Spike asked. "Git must be fit to be tied, knowin' I swiped his bloody destiny out from under him... might even --" He stopped. "Bloody hell, it was him."
"Him what?"
Spike stood up abruptly and flung a throw pillow from the couch across the room. "It was him! He's the one who hired sodding Captain Cardboard to come blow my head off!"
Fred's heart plunged into her stomach. "I feel sick. Oh, God, why did we go work there?"
"Place is all evil-like, is it? You think it's got to him?" Spike rolled his eyes. "Trust me, luv, Angel's always been one short step away from a rampage, soul or not. Not nearly the big fluffy puppy everybody thinks he is. Bloke's twisted up so hard inside, I'm surprised he's still in one piece."
Fred shook her head. "No, he's good. He's --"
"A champion," Spike said with disgust. "Not hardly. That position's been filled."
***
This was more like it, Xander thought. Buffy, Dawn, Willow, and me, all around the table with the laptop and the books. Just like old times.
Well, there was Kennedy and Faith now. And Giles was back in England. But still, at least Andrew had gotten a little courage and turned himself in, hoping to earn redemption through jail time, so he wasn't here to be useless and annoying.
Ugh, jail. He almost felt sorry for the guy.
Almost.
And Wood. Nice enough, but couldn't hack it when things got too hairy. He'd never really trusted him, not after that weird vendetta phase. Plus, skulky and too quiet and the way he left Faith like that was kind of rude. Sure, she was tough, she could take it, but Xander could almost sense the principal had gotten to her, just a little.
But there was research to be done, and Xander had a job to do.
"That was six jellies, two eclairs, and three plain, right?"
"Don't forget my chocolate sprinkled one," Buffy said.
Yeah, this was just like old times.
Xander went out to his car, trying to ignore the stupid British accent floating in his imagination.
"If you're going to the grocer, we're out of Weetabix. And I could do with a decent cuppa. You people and your bloody Lipton."
He smiled to himself as he started the engine. Shut up, Spike.
***
"I almost forgot!" Fred said excitedly. She flew to the sofa, snatching up her purse and rifling through it. "Ah ha!" She began furiously scrolling through the numbers stored in her cell phone.
"Got somethin'?"
"Willow!"
Spike sighed. "Already tried to ring Buffy. Doubt you'll have better luck with Red."
"Wanna bet?" Fred grinned. "Never underestimate the power of a tech geek to keep her cell working."
***
Willow frowned. "Who could that be?" she asked as her phone rang. "Everybody who has this number is here."
Buffy couldn't tell who was on the other end, but grew concerned when Willow took the phone into the living room. She looked at Kennedy. "What's up with that?"
"Beats me," Kennedy replied.
When Willow returned, her face was drained of blood, and she sat down heavily.
"Will?" Buffy asked. "What is it? You look like you've just seen a ghost."
"Actually, I talked to one."
***
Spike smiled as he hung up. Birds had flown off to protect another Hellmouth. Good on them. Just be gentle when you tell Buffy, he thought. Don't want her having a coronary.
"So?"
"Will's steeling herself up to talk to 'er," Spike said. "Might have to make a trip east."
Fred's face fell. "Oh. So, you're not staying?"
He shrugged. "Not much here for me, is there? Just your rather bitter employer, and all manner of potentially awkward situations therein."
"But if I could just talk to him, maybe figure out why he's trying... Wait."
"What is it?"
"The things Wesley was looking up... I think they've got the idea that you're not... that you're not exactly human."
Spike laughed. "Not human? Please. Got the reflection, the heartbeat, and the sunburn to prove it. Gonna have to give me more to go on, ducks. What theory do your little friends have, eh?"
Fred shook her head. "I don't know."
I was able to take on the bugger, he thought. Seemed a mite odd, but didn't necessarily mean anything. Still, Riley outsized him by a fair amount. And then there was the night the men in the white coats came for him...
No, no, nothing unusual about me now, he assured himself. I'm perfectly normal. Got to be. Anything else would be too much of a burden.
***
The way Willow took her hand and led her down the hall, Buffy wasn't sure if this was good news or bad, but whatever it was, it was deadly serious.
"Who was on the phone, Will?"
"Buffy, you need to sit down."
Buffy obeyed, but was growing impatient. "Who was it?"
"Do you remember when I went to LA to bring back Faith? Well, I stayed in touch with some of the people Angel works with."
"Oh, crap, that reminds me, I should probably call him and let him know --"
"That's just it," Willow interrupted. "Don't call him right now. At least not yet."
"Why not? I'm sure he wants to make sure we're all right." That I'm all right, anyway, she amended to herself. God, I can't believe I forgot to call him...
She grimaced. Oh, man, he'd love this wouldn't he? she thought bitterly. I wouldn't let Angel wear the amulet, and it saved his life. Killed his rival. Yeah, that'll be a fun conversation.
"He already knows, Buffy," Willow explained. "And Fred -- that's the girl that I talked to -- she thinks he's... not really so much on our side right now about..."
"What? Why the hell wouldn't Angel be on our side?"
Willow squared her shoulders. "Okay, this is all gonna sound crazy, but lemme just start at the beginning."
Buffy tried to perk up, ease Willow's obvious jitters. "A very good place to start," she said with a smile.
Willow didn't smile back. "Buffy... it's Spike. He's alive."
Buffy's smile dissolved. She stayed silent for a moment, then glared hard at Willow. "Don't even joke about that."
"It's not a joke. Fred gave him the phone. I talked to him."
The tears were immediately at her eyes, but they didn't fall. Buffy merely looked around the room, unable to focus on anything. In her lap, her hands twisted together anxiously, her breathing suddenly growing hard and ragged.
She tried to speak, but nothing came out except a whimper.
Willow got up and sat beside her, pulling her into a hug. "Just let it out, please, Buffy. You've tried to be so strong, but I know this has to be --"
"Is it real?" she asked.
"I'll tell you everything I know. But yes, it's real. He's alive."
The tears still didn't fall, but Buffy's chest tightened, and something deep within her ached. "Don't... don't explain yet," she said. "Just say it again..."
Willow held Buffy tighter. "He's alive."
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